


The Mist's End

by Teej



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 11:04:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6326464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teej/pseuds/Teej
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lestrade's December to May romance gets a little bit damp...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mist's End

**Author's Note:**

> Response to a challenge using a Random Title generator for Romance Titles. Title chosen was 'The Mist's End'.

With dismay, Anne and Lestrade both paused as they had passed through the turnstiles at Victoria Station.

“Oh dear,” Anne murmured. “It must be pouring.”

Lestrade only smirked as they both could see the water on the floor, people entering the station shaking off their umbrella's and still others preparing to open theirs as they headed out. Even at that hour of the night, the station was thrumming. Loudspeakers, bells, the train noises, the hustle and bustle, the immense amount of people hurrying to and fro one of London's busiest stations, seemed to go mute as they could just hear the rain hitting the station roof.

She glanced up at him, “And neither one of us with an umbrella...”

Lestrade looked around, hitching her knapsack up onto his shoulder, “Could always nip into a shop and buy one.” He frowned a little, before reaching down with a finger and tugging up his coat sleeve. He tipped his wrist to check his watch. “If anyone was open this late...”

“Bus?” Anne asked.

“Yeah, last one to Lurline Gardens.”

“We'd better get it,” she said. 

Lestrade nodded, shaking his coat sleeve back down then reached out to catch her hand in his.

Saying nothing, they plunged forward into the crowds streaming out. Lestrade noted how Anne hunched into her coat and scarf. In the very short time that they had begun to date he had learned one thing very fast. Anne's small, thin, physique had nothing to help keep her warm. She was always cold, despite being an expert at wearing layers. As they hunched their shoulders when the first drops of rain hit them, he slipped her hand around the crook of his arm and pulled her in a little closer, sharing heat.

She didn't protest. They stuck to the building walls, dashing between awnings as the deluge hit them and by the time they made it to the bare shelter of the bus stop, both were getting quite soaked. 

It was a rare thing for them to get time alone together, even rarer still to get the same days off. Thank God for a holiday weekend, Lestrade thought. They'd been seeing one other for several weeks now, for breakfasts, lunch's, dinner's... this was the first time they had the opportunity to spend a couple of days together. 

And it was pouring down rain. So typically British, Lestrade thought, as he slipped his arm up to Anne's shoulder and pulled her gently in closer. He peered up at the dark skies, unloading what seemed to be an ocean's worth of rain on them. The meager roof over their heads barely kept the worst of the rain out but a slight wind angled it enough to get them anyway. He felt Anne shiver, and he glanced down at her. She was hunched into her scarf still, the lower half of her face buried, her cheeks pink and damp. Her eyes were alive though, peering up at him from under the hat she wore, albeit showing a little fatigue. She'd had to dance that day, and he'd been wrestling paperwork at the Yard.

At that hour of the night, Bus 44 to Battersea Park, near where he lived, was blessedly a short ride, not many people being out in the cold winter rain. A few degrees colder and they'd be having snow. Anne sat by the window, glancing out at the rain and mist beginning to form as he set her pack on the floor between his feet. He'd slipped his arm back around her shoulders where they sat, lending his warmth to her. They said nothing as the bus lurched to and fro carrying them towards Battersea.

At the stop nearest his flat, Lestrade alighted first, the pack slung back over his shoulder, and he handed Anne down from the bus. Both stoically enduring having to get back out into the rain, though now it was more a drizzle and rapidly turning into mist. Fog was coming up off the Thames. They were at the corner of Cupar and Battersea Park Road. Almost instantly Anne began shivering and he couldn't help but notice her teeth chattering.

Approaching the corner, near a street light, Lestrade came to a decision.

His arm still around her shoulder, he guided her under an awning out of the wet, and let the pack slide off his shoulder, where he set it between them. Anne, face still buried, trying not to let her teeth rattle, gave him a quizzical look as he turned her to face him, sliding his arms around her and pulling her into a hug. She slid her arms around his waist, subconsciously leaning into him for warmth.

“You're freezing,” he commented at the question in her eyes.

“We're almost to your place.” She said, the words muffled by her scarf, causing a wry smile to appear on his lips.

He said nothing, letting his hands rub her back, her arms. His dark, intense eyes scanned her face. Anne's eyebrow lifted in query as she gazed up at him. His hands stopped, resting on her shoulders as he studied her.

A pause, a moment, then he reached up and gently pulled the scarf away from her face, before sliding his hands up into her hair and cupping her head very gently. “Let me warm you up,” he murmured as all expression disappeared from her face, her eyes large, searching his own, expectant. 

Lestrade caressed her cheek with his thumb, then he leaned down, his lips --butterfly soft-- caught her own. As he embraced her, she inhaled, and he pulled her in even closer, holding her tight. Under that awning, lit by the streetlight as the rain turned to misty fog, they passionately kissed. 

When they parted, they didn't move, Anne's eyes were shut, her lips parted, a slight smile on her face.

“Better?” he asked.

“Mmm, a little...” She murmured. Lestrade smirked a little and leaned forward, “Let me try again....” he said before kissing her a second time. 

This time a sigh of contentment left her and he slowly broke the embrace. One hand held her head to his chest, the other rubbing her back. She held him tight, eyes still closed. 

“I think...” he said softly into her ear, causing a shiver of a different sort to run down her back. “That I am falling in love.”

She pulled back then, gazing up at him with a smile. Reaching up, she set her hand on his cheek. He could see the flush of warmth on her features. There was something else there too. He smiled back, recognizing it. A soft laugh escaped her lips as he bent down for the third time and kissed her again. 

When they parted, he snagged up her pack, steered her in close and they made their way to his flat in Lurline Gardens.

There followed a long, slow, night of consummation, while the mist slowly ended and a shrouding fog enveloped their world, wrapping them up in its cloak.


End file.
